A thrill of excitement slid over her, slow and deliberate.
“I forgot, you’re the bloody duke, you know what’s best,” The brother, Declan, replied in a flippant tone.
Florentia’s head swiveled from one brother to the other, finding it quite comical that they were bickering like women.They did not have prominent Irish accents like her late husband had always complained.They very much sounded English, but with crude words.
“Aye, I’m the bloody duke, and I will handle the duchess.”Tavish pointed to his chest.
She tried not to allow her mind to wander on ways he could actually handle her.Instead, Florentia went with what she knew, attitude.
“The duchess is right here,” she said rising to her feet, having heard enough from the two of them.“And I will not be handled by anyone.If you’ll excuse me.”
She reached the threshold of the parlor, before his deep voice halted her in place.“We’ll talk when I return.”
“Looking forward to it, Your Grace.”Florentia glided out of the room, finally able to breathe.Who knew that men like Tavish O’Brien, the new Duke of Summerset, existed.
CHAPTER FIVE
There were a great many things in the world that annoyed the hell out of Tavish.The chirping of birds in the early morning, the smell of shite coming off the Thames.London in general had always been the one place he couldn’t stomach above all, but he would never complain about his mother’s hugs.
His ma hadn’t released the prizefighter-like grip she had on him since the moment he’d walked into the door five minutes earlier.Patting her broad back awkwardly, he didn’t dare utter a single word that would end their embrace.
As a man well out of leading strings, Tavish was aware that the best thing for him to do when his mother was weeping in his arms was to stand there and wait patiently for her to end their embrace.His mother wasn’t the type of woman that surrendered to her emotions easily.In fact, Tavish was positive he could count the number of times he’d seen her cry with both hands.
“I wish your da was here to see ya.”She squeezed him tighter, her body shuddering in his arms.
She was small compared to her children.Tavish was positive that his little sister would be taller than their mother by now.Leaning over, he rested his head against the top of hers, inhaling the familiar scent of flour and amber.Two smells that always reminded him of his childhood.
“I’m here, Ma,” he said, trying to hide the emotion in his own voice.
He was a man reaching his twenty-ninth year of life, but nothing would ever stop him from needing his mother’s love.He’d felt empty for years, but standing there with his arms around the one woman who’d always loved him, he didn’t feel as empty.
“Tavish O’Brien, I should put you over my knee!”His ma released him and hit his shoulder with as much strength as any bare-knuckle fighter.
“Ma,” he teased her by pressing his hand to his shoulder.“That’s my fighting arm.”
Sucking at her teeth, his mother took a step back, her blue eyes roaming over every part of him.“Would ya look at the state of you?Busted lip, bruised eye.Tongues will wag at the state of the new Duke of Summerset, that’s for sure.”
“He’ll be the ugliest fecking duke in England,” his youngest brother Teagan said, as he galloped into the small sitting room.
In the five years Tavish had been gone, the youngest of the O’Brien boys had sprouted up to stand at least a foot taller than his own six foot two.The O’Brien signature red hair hung past Teagan’s shoulders, nearly as long as some women’s.His freckled face was lit up with mischief, as grayish blue eyes danced at Tavish.
“Teagan O’Brien, you watch your tongue in my house!”his mother wagged a finger at her youngest son.“I swear the lot of ya were raised by wolves.”Her Irish accent was thick, as she glared from Tavish to Teagan and then to Declan, who leaned against the back of the large dark green sofa in the center of the parlor.
“Would you look who it is, The Duke of Summerset,” his brother Fionn said in a mocking voice, bowing at Tavish.
“Get your arse over here,deartháir!”He called to the third eldest O’Brien.
Tavish couldn’t help the smile that spread across his lips.He’d missed his family.The chaotic love that came from being a part of a large brood comforted him in a way that fighting never had.
Where Tavish and Declan were constantly bickering over something like old women, Fionn and Tavish rarely disagreed over anything.Teagan was barely reaching eighteen years when Tavish went to join the boxing mill.
“Look at ya.”He grabbed Teagan by the neck dragging him in for a hug.“Yer a man now."
Teagan patted the top of Tavish’s head.“And you’re old.Be careful, old man, I can take you in a fight.”
“He’s got a good right, like you,” Fionn said, pulling Tavish into a hug.
Laughing, he slapped Teagan hand away.“I can still knock him on his arse?—”
